The Mystery of the Disappearing Boy
by Cookies and Ink
Summary: A new boy joins Hermione's class in Year 5. Hermione might be nine but she knows who Sherlock Holmes and James Bond are. She knows what a detective should do. So when the new boy doesn't play football and then disappears in thin air with his dad, Hermione decides she's going to solve a mystery.


**A/N:** All prompts are listed at the bottom. Enjoy

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**The Mystery of the Disappearing Boy**

Hermione tried to stare at the new boy without looking obvious. Last night she had asked her mum for a hand mirror to use but when her parents had both looked surprised and asked why she needed it, Hermione hadn't been able to think of a good reason besides 'because'. It wasn't like she could tell them the truth.

She was trying to solve a mystery.

At first, the new boy had not interested her. The rest of the class had been buzzing with curiosity when they were told someone was joining the class in the middle of the term. All Hermione had hoped was that it would distract people for a little bit. If they were distracted, it meant that they wouldn't be focussed on bullying her. When he'd arrived, with slightly too long trousers, his hands dug deep into his pockets and tie askew, she'd dismissed him immediately. He looked like all the other boys who didn't seem to care about anything but football and being loud.

The new boy even went and sat at the back of the class, which solidified in Hermione's opinion, his status as Someone To Avoid.

Except he didn't play football.

Hermione spent most of her breaks and lunches either helping the teachers, sitting and chatting with the receptionist or if Mrs Alver was watching over the library, sometimes she'd be allowed to sit in there and read. So for the first few weeks after the new boy had appeared, all Hermione was vaguely aware of was that the endless questions and curiosity had died down.

Then she found him sat in the corner by the two old trees, conveniently hidden from view of the field where almost everyone went to play football or gossip if you weren't a boy or sporty tom-boy. He had scowled at her and Hermione had automatically apologised for disrupting him. Except this was her spot. No one else sat on their own but her.

Did that mean the new boy wasn't actually like the others?

Hermione had decided to find out.

So far, she'd learnt his name was Ron Weasley and he had a lot of brothers and sisters. He lived in the countryside and before coming to school, he'd been homeschooled by his Mum, so sometimes he knew a lot about one subject and other times he really didn't know anything. That was when the first few insults had started. Ron had had to go to Special Ed class and David McClaren had called him 'thick'. Ron had hit him and called him a word he must have learnt off one of his older brothers.

Mr Alver had given them both lines and said she wanted to talk to their parents when they came to pick them up.

Hermione had then learnt that Ron's ears went red first but his whole face eventually flushed with colour when he was angry, embarrassed or both.

What Hermione hadn't been able to learn - yet - was why he was different. He didn't put his hand up in class or talk to the teachers like they were his friends. He didn't try and read under the desk or do the homework in class because the work they were doing was too easy. So he wasn't like Hermione, who everyone said was too clever and a weirdo. He just seemed to be a bit angry and didn't want to be around anyone else.

That's why she wanted the mirror. Any time she went over to him, he huffed and got up to leave, telling her once that he didn't want to be around someone who got excited when they sniffed a book. That was a little mean but Hermione had heard worse. If she had a mirror, she could angle it to spy on him. She was sure that was something a detective would do. After all, she'd seen it in a movie and read about it in a book before so it must be the right way to investigate someone.

What Hermione should have guessed, was that like all mysteries, this one had a plot twist.

She was late to leave because both her Mum and Dad were stuck at work so she'd gotten a message from reception that she would have to get the bus, walk home and then call them when she was in so they'd know she was safe. Hermione had counted out the exact bus fare just before walking out of the school gates, to be read when she had seen something that made her interest in Ron turn into something much, much bigger.

He disappeared.

He had been standing with a man who had to be his Dad because he had red hair that was going a little bald on the top. He'd put an arm around Ron, almost giving him a hug. It was the sort of hug her Dad gave her when he was feeling awkward. Her parents knew she got bullied but they also knew there wasn't much they could do. The last time they'd gone to the school, all the teachers had said Hermione needed to try harder to fit in more.

But Hermione didn't want to fit in. She knew she was a weirdo. She was happier with her books than with her boring, stupid classmates.

After Ron had hit David, most people had avoided him, whispering about how the new boy had been raised in the countryside all on his own so he was feral and would attack people if they talked to him. Had he heard the rumours and gotten upset? Hermione frowned, wondering if there was something she could say, when Ron and his dad just vanished into thin air, with a loud cracking noise that made her jump out of her skin.

Hermione ran as fast as she could to the place where it had happened, to see if there was some sort of sign. Detectives, after all, weren't cowards. They investigated everything, even if their legs did feel like jelly and it was a bit scary. There was nothing there. Next, she looked around to see if anyone else had seen what had happened, but the street and car park were completely empty.

Hermione got on the bus, got home, called the secretary at the dentist's where her parents work to say she was safe and then paced around the house. She wasn't sure whether she should call the police or something. What if something bad had happened?

What if she was going crazy and had imagined it all? Then even more people would think she was a weirdo.

Hermione told herself to calm down, wrote a detailed list of the events that had happened and then made a plan for what to do if Ron didn't turn up at school the next day.

Going to sleep that night was the hardest thing she'd ever done.

The next morning, she convinced her Dad to drop her off early and sat by the school steps as teachers and kids who had breakfast at school trickled through. The front playground got busier and busier as it neared eight am and then Hermione saw a shock of red hair and jumped to her feet, nearly falling over her backpack in her excitement.

It was Ron.

Now she had to work out how to talk to him.

All through English, she was distracted and in Geography Mr Alver told her off for drumming her fingers on the table. When the bell went for the first break, Hermione was out of her seat and waited in the corridor for the rest of the kids to leave. Ron as always was towards the end of the rush of bodies running outside and Hermione hissed his name, grabbing his arm.

"I need to talk to you."

"Get off me!"

"Ronald Weasley, meet me by the trees in two minutes."

As it turned out, that was a bit pointless to say because they both walked together to the trees in silence, Ron staring at her with a perpetual scowl on his face and Hermione trying not to skip, her heart light in her chest with hope.

"What?" Ron said roughly, crossing his arms across his chest. "It better be really important."

"Who picked you up from school yesterday?"

She saw when the words sunk in because Ron was not a good actor. His eyes went a little too wide and his voice was a little too high when he spoke next.

"Why do you want to know? It was my dad."

"I saw what happened. I saw you disappear."

"No, you didn't."

Of all the responses Hermione had prepared herself for, that had not been one. She was almost tempted to stamp her foot and cross her arms because she hated being called a liar.

"I did. I'm not imagining things. I don't imagine things, okay!?"

Something in her voice made Ron pause and then his eyes narrowed at her, pensively, but he didn't say anything else so Hermione took a breath.

"I saw you and your dad disappear. I know I did. I was worried, I thought maybe something had happened like aliens although I'm not sure they're real or a laser made by the Russians, although they're sort of supposed to be our friends now. It's not like it is in James Bond, except I have been investigating you and I know you're not like the other boys. You don't play football so I think there's something strange about you and I want to know what."

Hermione knew she spoke fast, so she gave him a second to catch up and then put her hands on her hips.

"So enlighten me, Ronald Weasley. That means to -"

"I know what enlighten means," Ron snapped, although Hermione wasn't sure he did. "And I can't. It's a secret."

That made Hermione pause. Secrets were important. If Ron just told her a secret, then he'd probably tell everyone else her secrets. She didn't want to be friends with someone like that. She chewed on her lip then ran a hand through her curls nervously.

"If I show you a secret, then will you tell me yours? That way, it's fair."

"It's a really big secret, not something stupid like that you wet the bed," Ron sniffed.

"I don't wet the bed," Hermione said primly. "But I can do this."

She put her hand on the tree by her side and concentrated her, squeezing her eyes closed. When she heard Ron say that bad word again, Hermione knew it had worked and smiled smugly. Where her hand had been pressed against the tree, was now a lemon yellow stain in a wonky sort of circle. Ron touched it tentatively then jerked back.

"It's still the same tree," Hermione explained. "I can just change the colour of things. I found out I could do it because my Dad bought me a dress that was a horrible colour and then when I was thinking about how I wanted a blue one, it changed."

Ron was staring at her, his eyes wide.

"You can do magic."

The hope that had seeded itself deep in Hermione's heart bloomed and spread through her whole body, making her feel as light as air. She'd accepted that she was different, but being different for a good reason was so much better than just being a weirdo.

"What?" she whispered, telling herself that a good Detective asked questions first. She mustn't get carried away.

"You can do magic. That must be why you could see my dad and me. He said he'd cast disillusionment charms around us so Muggles couldn't see us. Look, you can't tell anyone okay? It's really serious, like, we could get in a lot of trouble. Mum's going to think I've done something and it's all my fault," Ron said, suddenly stricken. Hermione didn't understand why but she did know how it felt to be nervous about a Mum telling you off, so she quickly put her hand back on the tree and turned it back brown.

"Why would we get in trouble?"

"Because people can't know. Muggles, that's people like everyone at this school, who can't do magic. They can't know about magic. Normally wizards and witches just stay on their own but Dad got annoyed, he said that it was wrong that the two are so separate so Mum agreed to let me go to a muggle school for a bit." Ron rolled his eyes dramatically. "None of my brothers had to go, it's so annoying. Now I've got homework to do and everything."

"I can help with your homework if you tell me more about magic," Hermione said hurriedly. "I won't tell anyone either. I just want to know more. How do you disappear, can you teach me?"

That made Ron laugh. "No, you have to be seventeen to learn that!"

"Why are Muggles called Muggles?"

"Don't know."

"Can you turn things different colours?"

"No... but I can do other stuff. Proper spells," Ron said with a sniff.

"Can you show me?"

"No. No, um, because I left my wand at home."

Ron was not a good actor. Hermoine decided to leave it for now and opened her mouth to ask another question.

"Look, I probably don't know all the answers. I'm only nine, okay? We don't learn half this stuff until we go to Hogwarts when we're eleven. That's when you'd get told about magic and stuff too I think, that's probably how it works for muggleborns. I'll have to tell my Mum and Dad, maybe then they can do something or whatever." He was mumbling by the end, sounding very unsure. Everything he'd said only gave Hermione more questions but she took in a slow deep breath and nodded as the bell went, signalling that they needed to get back inside for class.

"I meant it, that I'll help you with your homework. And I'll give you my home telephone number if you want to call me or my Mum."

"We use letters actually," Ron said hurriedly and Hermione frowned then nodded.

"Okay well, I'll give you my address and maybe... do you think it'd be a good idea if I wrote them a letter, asking a few questions if you don't know all the answers? I think that might be a good idea."

"Uh, sure, yeah," Ron said weakly. Hermione grinned until her cheeks hurt and whilst Ron looked a little scared, Hermione didn't mind that much.

She had solved the mystery of why Ron was a weirdo and even better, she'd discovered why she was weirdo too. She could do magic.

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**A/N**: Written for Round 6 of the QLFC's Season 7. I am Chaser 3 of the Montrose Magpies.

_Main Prompt_: Write about someone trying to solve something, figure something out, or understand something.

_Optional Prompts Used:_ (colour) lemon yellow, (word) enlighten, (emotion) hopeful


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